


Love Is A Condition

by horse



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 19:49:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15396120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horse/pseuds/horse
Summary: Something short that came out much lighter than I meant for, while, y'know, retaining that Hisoka/Illumi darkness we all crave.





	Love Is A Condition

Blindsight.

Cars sped by. The lullaby of the open door chime persisted, and he stepped out of the driver’s seat onto broken glass.

Well. It wasn’t the worst case scenario.

“I’ve been.” Pause. “Inconvenienced.” Dark eyes flickered from the wreck to the highway. “Would it be possible to stay with you for a few hours?”

“Oh?”

Illumi felt his jaw twitch at the amused lilt.

“Mm.”

“I didn’t say no. It’s just a little sudden, Illu.”

“Mm.”

“Are you alright?”

Illumi blinked, not expecting the question. He was looking down at himself, bloody hand gingerly holding a phone to his ear under long, mussed hair. That question didn’t sound… real in Hisoka’s voice. Why would he even bother to ask? Did he not sound in his faculties? He felt his brows come together, and immediately smoothed his expression.

“Yes. Are you?” Illumi responded dumbly. Was this some kind of code? There was some tinny laughter, and then:

“I’ll send you an address.”

There was the soft beeping of an ended call. Illumi let his hand fall before raising it halfway to look at the screen of his phone, lit up by a text message. He didn’t recognise the address… Hisoka must have been up to something that, frankly, was none of his business. 

All well and good, as long as he wasn’t staying somewhere abysmal, which was so often the case that Illumi had to wonder if Hisoka did it on purpose. Which brought him to his next thought - had he become predictable?

That would be… dangerous.

 

\---

 

The location turned out to be a new hotel, which explained why Illumi had been unfamiliar with it; outwardly, it seemed nice enough, though naturally he had seen and stayed in far better.

His head hit the wall with an audible crack, lines splintering outwards like lightning. He felt Hisoka’s hips stutter. It made his back muscles tense.

“Illumi,” Hisoka purred, more chiding than threatening, as if he’d done something childishly stupid. 

“I’m trying to stay focused.”

“That’s… contrary to the point.” 

Illumi turned ever so slightly to peer over his shoulder and through thick black hair. Hisoka’s hair was flat against his head, curling somewhat with sweat - it was pleasant, really. Illumi liked that Hisoka’s hair had a natural wave to it. “Take it out on me.” The magician continued, though his voice was at least three times quieter and twice as low. 

“If you don’t start moving, I will.” Illumi replied hoarsely, feeling his restraint leak through the tips of his fingers like blood. Hisoka made some grotesque sound, nails tightening into the flesh of Illumi’s sides. It felt good. Everything Hisoka did felt very, very good.

A moment passed, and Illumi heard the singular sound of a droplet of sweat hitting the floor - he swore he did - before twisting to grab that slender neck. His attack was a moment too late, body slurred by the onslaught of pleasure, transformed from a confident killing machine into a broken jumble of gears hurtling towards the brink. Hisoka caught his wrist, hard enough to break it, had he been anyone other than himself. Even if the magician had managed that much, Illumi would’ve been more impressed than impeded.

“Mmm, there we go,” The words fell sloppily from Hisoka’s mouth; a heavy and lascivious ooze. Illumi had to wonder what kind of man it made him to fall prey to that ooze… the way his face felt hotter than before, the way his blood felt like knives running through him. He didn’t retract his claws. Hisoka’s grin widened.

“Why did you ask if I was alright?” Illumi said suddenly, in the same hoarse voice as before. Why was he angry about it? Hisoka’s breath hitched, lips parting in a way that was unnervingly revealing. _That_... if it hadn’t been _this_ question, Illumi would’ve lost himself then and there.

“What?”

“Before. On the phone.”

“Are you really asking right now?” Oh. Hisoka sounded annoyed. Illumi kept his face even, gut swirling with anxious excitement. Then his body jutted forward with a thrust. An embarrassing but thankfully soft sound left him, spiraling into the aether. Hisoka kept moving, too slow to finish and too fast let the assassin process anything besides the hot cock hitting and hitting and hitting his-

“All the times we’ve done this-” Hisoka was right over him, voice as strained as Illumi’s legs while the magician moved to fuck him into the wall. “-You’ve never stopped to think about-”

“That’s a waste of time.” Illumi offered simply, punctuating the sentence with a moan he had not meant to let through. “I’ve never… why would I-bother trying-to assess-”

“Illumi,” Hisoka drawled into his tensing shoulder, “Have you ever been in love? Ever?”

Yes.

“No.”

“You’re a baaad liar,”

Illumi swallowed, cheek pressed against a hard surface, once cold, now warmed by the heat of his face. He wasn’t a bad liar, he just wasn’t as good of one as Hisoka.

“I was asking because you sounded… not alright.” God. Hisoka’s mouth was right by his ear, and it sent him into an awful state of hyperawareness. He felt his resistance to electricity rendered useless in the face of a new kind of it, a kind that was emanating from Hisoka’s skin, frying his insides with merciless conviction.

“I was-ah-!”

“I can tell.” It was so silky sweet, and yet so sharp. Illumi jerked, slamming his ass backwards, earning a winded noise from Hisoka and something stuttered and ridiculous from himself. Everything was white hot, and then it was a buzz and a throbbing. There was come on the wall. His ass burned, thighs trembling visibly as he fought to stay standing for the the brief moment that his body wanted so _badly_ to collapse. Then: cold, empty. Something slid down the inside of his leg. 

He stared at the floor, at the spattering of blood, presumably from when he had slammed his forehead into expensive paneling.

“You’ve been cold. Moreso than usual.” Hisoka turned him around, hand moving to hold his jaw, not unkindly. The man was smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes. In fact, he looked a little sobered - a rarity, certainly. Illumi tilted his head, hair swaying gently.

“I’m always this way.”

The fingers around his jaw tightened.

“Do you do this with anyone else?”

“No.”

“Do you want to?”

“No.”

Illumi blinked. “Do you wish to stop?”

Hisoka blinked back, then sighed, audibly, running a hand through his hair to pull it out of his face. In it’s damp state, it remained slicked back for the most part, his fringe curling close to his temples in a way that was… charming. He fell back into a loveseat, crossing his legs loosely, lounging. How anyone could sit that way in the nude… resting his elbow on the arm, and his face in his palm, Hisoka murmured: “Is it even possible for you to be this naive? Ah… but it’s kind of cute.”

“Cute?”

“Mm. How clever… and yet, how clueless you can be.”

That was a stupid smile, Illumi decided. Bad. 

“Why did you call me? Why not your father?”

Illumi paused. Why _had_ he thought to call Hisoka? Before his own family?

“Shit.”

“Sounds like you have a problem.”

He did have a problem. Had he taken… some sort of personal interest in Hisoka? Interesting. But more than interesting, it was an absoolute disaster. He could lie, he supposed. Lie about it until he could get some sort of handle on… whatever was happening to him. If his family found out, it could only mean terrible things. Something gurgled in the pit of himself. He didn’t want to think about it.. He did… he _should_... but… something tugged at his chest, made his throat dry. Perhaps he had been drugged. When? With what? What immunity had he failed to build?

He had been standing there in silence - so long, apparently, that Hisoka had stopped reclining to lean forwards, hand still supporting his chin.

“You have the same problem.” Illumi stated, suddenly, and matter-of-factly. He had meant to ask it, but there was no use; obviously if Hisoka were bringing it up, it meant that he was dealing with the same thing or had already dealt with it. The latter was unlikely. Hisoka didn’t regularly check up on people, not to Illumi’s knowledge - unless he were keeping tabs on them for… _other_ purposes. Even then, he would hardly be forward about it. Judging by the taken aback blink, Illumi had deduced correctly. He picked up his pants, assessing them in the dim lighting. Clean. Intact. That was also unusual. “You have the same problem.”

“I heard you.” Oh, but Hisoka did look positively sour for a second before a grin sliced his expression in two. “Are you having a nervous breakdown?”

“Maybe.” Illumi began to fold his clothes. He’d take a shower, maybe sleep for an hour… then go back home. Lay low. “If I’m in love with you, that means you have to die.” He turned to lock eyes with the magician. 

“Looks like we’re at an impasse.” Hisoka chimed, smiling big enough to close his eyes, before opening one to meet Illumi’s gaze. “I don’t mind if you try, so long as you wait until we’re fucking to make your move.”

“If that’s what you want. I can give you that much, I guess.” He didn’t have to admit how pleasant, how apt that sounded.

“You spoil me, Illu.” Hisoka fell back again, legs akimbo.

“Yep. I’ll be in the shower.”

“Mmn. Leave some conditioner for me, honey.”

“No.”


End file.
